So it goes
by PerilousPie
Summary: Caleb Dume ran from his life and into the persona of Kanan Jarrus. Now ISB Agent Jarrus, he faces his past, his present, and the uncertain future ahead of him. AU, all the crew is involved.
1. Chapter 1

**So it goes.**

By PerilousPie

* * *

Synopsis: Caleb Dume ran from his life and into the persona of Kanan Jarrus. Now ISB Agent Jarrus, he faces his past, his present, and the uncertain future ahead of him.

* * *

A/N: I'm actually not a huge fan of author's notes. They skew word count, waste space and usually I find a piece of writing will speak for itself. They are appreciated though as giving readers a more round idea of what they're getting into with a story. Hence why I am subjugating you to reading this.

First, this is going to be a more, adult like work, I'd say gritty but I'm not confident enough in my amateur writing skills to claim any style is being well used.

Second, while no explicit sexual content will be had, innuendo and sexual situations will arise, though not to the benefit of those looking for a romantic setting, it will be to help character development.

Third, I claim the right to artistic amendments of canon. Plus, people, this is fanfiction, the very essence of which involves creativity and the ability to do as you will with characters.

Fourth, there will be mild swearing.

Fifth, I must say, Sabine's character has always been a bit elusive for me. I've always hated the stereotype of teenage rebel who uses art to express themselves, it's a worn out cliche and usually bores me to death. However, watching the series, I've slowly warmed to her, and reading her history, she's actually a dynamic individual with a lot of interest. The show may not cash in on it, but I have every intention to.

* * *

Chapter 1: Green is the Color of Lust and Envy

* * *

After years of waiting, the time had come. ISB Agent Kanan Jarrus stared in the mirror with a pleased smile. Dress and Appearance Standards, DAS, had been updated. The battle for facial hair had been won a while ago and Kanan had finally been able to stop fighting his constant growth of bristles, his five o'clock shadow had been a recurring issue with his superior officers. Now, finally, they'd lifted the ban on hair length. It seemed ridiculous that it should take this long, especially considering the fact that there were some alien species which were covered in hair. However, Imperial recruiting was 93.04 percent human based so they cared about how a human looked; a prejudice which wasted a vast many resources. Imagine what a squadron of Trandoshans could do.

Kanan didn't make the rules though, just complained a whole lot to who he could and pushed for little things like being able to wear his hair how he liked. He was glad the moment had come now, he'd been down to the wire with inspections and hoping that the standard would be modified before he was given a bad mark for having hair nearly long enough for a ponytail. Luck had been on his side.

Kanan brushed gel through his hair, wishing it would get those few extra centimeters so he could finally, finally pull his hair back. Smirking he admired himself. Not bad, he thought, not bad at all. Letting out a sigh, he finished preparing for the day, he had recently been moved from Bnach to Lothal. He didn't miss Bnach, a disgusting penal camp where he'd spent his week days working over prisoners and his weekends wasting away in the heat and misery. Lothal was much better and a much deserved promotion. He'd done good work on Bnach, very good work.

Stepping out of his personal quarters, Kanan eyed the hallway of the barracks. He had chosen to live there, someone of his rank could choose to live in the community, but he was single and not particularly interested in the expenses or the maintenance involved in a home or flat.

Cadets scattered out of his way and many of the soldiers and officers lower ranking than him moved respectfully out of his way. Kanan was used to it by now, as an ISB agent in the Interrogation branch he was very aware of the effect he had. Maybe not as scary as a Loyalty agent, but something about being Interrogation set him apart. Other Imperials avoided him and he enjoyed the isolation.

"Jarrus!"

Kanan blinked, pulled from his thoughts. Hooge was waving at him. Agent Hooge was a ruddy faced man, tall and sometimes considered uncoordinated, unless of course you'd been a victim of his in combat practice.

"I heard you were being transferred to Lothal and I didn't believe! But here you are!" Hooge slapped Kanan on the back, a grin in place.

Kanan shrugged the hand from his shoulder and gave a little nod.

"Nice to see you too, Hooge," he replied, continuing his walk.

Hooge fell in step, long legs sloping along easily to Kanan's fast pace.

"You still in Interrogation? I moved as soon as I could, you wouldn't believe how much easier Investigation is."

Hooge seemed insistent on talking, the man was smart, but he liked heckling and he knew spouting off pissed Kanan off. They'd trained in the academy together, two fifteen year old orphans picked up for talent, and they had both been selected for the prestigious Verity District ISB academy. Kanan had never really liked Hooge, the man had a streak of sadism which had always pricked Kanan the wrong way. Ironic since Kanan was the Interrogation officer.

"Yeah, same old here, except I'm not on Bnach," Kanan knew humoring Hooge was the best way to get rid of him.

"Bnach!? Damn, that place's a hell hole, you bastard, you must have been itching to get out. I've been busy here for the last year or so, they kept me on Coruscant, you wouldn't believe how easy it is crustbusting here, damn Lothalians are more backwards than a Hutt who pays with clean money," Hooge then let out a barking laugh, loud and grating.

Kanan wanted to say he had principles, at least more than Hooge, but he knew it was a lie. He'd done terrible things as well, still did them, and it wasn't like he was changing anytime soon.

"Don't you have somewhere you're supposed to be?" Kanan asked, no longer masking his annoyance.

Hooge's smile just widened, he knew he ticked Kanan off and he loved it.

"Nice to see you still got that stick up your ass, Jarrus," Hooge said amiably, clapping Kanan on the back again, "lucky for you I got a briefing with some people I'm auditing, take care Jabba."

Kanan said nothing to the jibe, merely appreciating Hooge's departure. It was too early to be dealing with this kind of bullshit.

Kanan made it to the transportation center, planning on heading to Central's space port. So far he'd been tacked onto a surveillance team, it was small, three agents: two lower ranking than Kanan and the one leading it up a Special Operations agent. They had a pretty vague commission, to investigate illegal and possibly seditious port activity, and they had strong prerogatives to do as they pleased. Luckily the leader of the team, an Agent Oamuys, had sent them short briefs which let them approach the commission however they wanted so long as they reported back once a week in writing and once a month in person. Kanan hadn't met Oamuys yet, they'd been unavailable when he'd come planetside, but the job seemed simple enough.

Today he'd just be walking the area, seeing what it was like and maybe getting an idea about what he, as an Interrogation agent, was expected to do. It was a bit unusual, his job ordinarily consisted of asking questions after people like Hooge had gotten a hold of a suspect, not aiding in the process. It might just be some new program snapped out by an officer who needed new material but didn't know his ass from his face.

He requisitioned a speeder and then, after changing into civilian clothes, headed out. He dumped the speeder off at a small Imperial station, knowing that just the build of the vehicle, let alone its obvious insignia, would mark him as an Imperial. The Lothal interplanetary port was then just a short couple kilometer walk.

* * *

"You watch your kriffing fingers!"

Hera rolled her eyes, Zeb was not exactly the person she'd pick to help her make this transport. They'd picked up a shipment of medicine, headed from Coruscant to Lothal, halfway through its journey. It had a few other things tacked on, thanks to Fulcrum, such as a force sensitive refugee and her three kids. They hadn't been bothered by the Empire, Red Sigil was a galactic non-profit which was endorsed by the Empire for both being supportive politically and for the fact that it helped boost the Imperial image. It had its own seditious parts and most of the volunteers who ran it genuinely wanted to see all living creatures given aid. So sneaking a family to safety using the Red Sigil immunity had been easy. If they were discovered, the little crew of the Ghost would be the scape goat and Red Sigil would be able to continue functioning without being harmed by the Empire.

"I'm sorry!" A woman's voice sounded out in apology before turning a one-eighty and snapping out, "Now what did I tell you Kirma?!"

Hera suppressed a laugh. Zeb wasn't good with children, a fact he didn't hide and one which made their trip all the more amusing. Riaka Starsweeper, originally hailing from Tatooine, had adventurous children. They'd given Zeb quite a bit of grief.

"We'll be planetside in just a minute," Hera voiced over the intercom.

Zeb clambered into the cockpit looking like he was ready to bust someone's head.

"Please tell me we're dumping them here," Zeb said, lowering himself into a seat, ears set back in obvious discontent.

Hera let out a soft laugh which had Zeb casting her a glare.

"Yes, they'll be met by someone in Capital," she reassured.

"Good, I don't think I could take another blasted question from one of those brats," Zeb said under his breath, glancing behind him to make sure one of the little monsters didn't suddenly appear.

Hera said nothing in return, amused by the whole thing. She focused on landing, calling in her ship's name and the identification code of their transport. The usual surly attitude of the Imperial port receiver was nonexistent and she was allowed landing without even the usual scan. Being a female Twi'lek captain, she was often met with suspicion and derision. Honestly it didn't help having a Lasat or a semi-sentient (of fully sentient if you asked her) robot with an attitude. At this point though, she wasn't sure it would make a difference. Species based prejudice abounded and Hera had come to accept it as part of her life.

The landing was quick, an open dock on the market side. It was a nice, easy place to refuel and purchase supplies, her cargo door opening up right to the street which was teeming with life from the market, stalls and shops lining it. Once the systems were shut down and a diagnostic was started, Hera stepped out of the cockpit and approached her passengers.

"Our contact should be meeting us here, once you're with them you should be safe," Hera said.

Riaka smiled, tears in her eyes as her three young children crowded around her.

"I don't," she choked up, "I don't know what we would have done without you."

Hera felt her chest warm, the fulfilling sensation of having helped someone spreading through her. Zeb was by her shoulder, receiving the thanks and excited good byes of the children. His face was flushed, a hint of embarrassed joy on his face. For such a grumpy Lasat, he liked doing good as much as Hera. Even Chopper was twittering benevolently in his curious way. Riaka patted the bot on the head with a smile on her face.

"Thank you," she said, looking between the three.

The cargo door opened and a Rodian stood waiting. When he saw Hera he gave a polite greeting and then spoke with her shortly. The necessary code was passed and Hera knew she could leave Riaka in his hands.

Riaka gathered her children and said her good byes again, this time visibly crying. The small crew watched them disappear in the crowd.

"Good job," Hera said, addressing both Zeb and Chopper, "we did good."

Zeb gave a nod, looking a little emotional himself while Chopper let out a preening beep.

"Yeah, we do need to pick up the supplies," Hera said in response, mind already turning to new business.

Turning to look out at the market street, she placed a hand on her hip in thought.

"I can do a usual run, we can make decisions about the reactor turbine later on," Zeb said, seemingly reading her mind.

Hera gave a nod, their reactor turbine was acting up, a mechanical issue which boded no good for them.

"Alright, yeah," Hera said, nodding her head.

"I'll do some outside maintenance, my poor girl is starting to look closer to a trash heap than the pretty freighter she is."

Chopper beeped in agreement and Zeb shrugged, heading out into the crowd.

* * *

Ezra felt his lungs shrieking in protest at his exertions. Running at a sprint for several minutes tended to do that. He just needed to make it though, just around the corner, through the alley and then he could make a quick exit through the small sewer pipe there. Maybe he'd smell like shit for a while, literally, but it sure beat being caught by one of Gugliemo's men. This, he thought, was what he got for running messages and packages for Vihaan Mok. Territory wars and violent symbolic messages were what got little Loth-rats like him eviscerated or strung up.

Hearing the shouts of Gugliemo's men Ezra pushed himself to run a little faster. He kind of liked the idea of keeping his entrails inside of him. He rounded the corner and started down the alley. The shouts got louder. Ezra blinked rapidly, trying to see through the sweat which was stinging his eyes. Don't look back, don't look back, he repeated to himself, even as the sounds grew. Once through the alley he saw the sewer pipe, sticking oh so innocently out of a building. Ezra dived, scrambling into it. He could hear one man, a nasty human with a long curved knife, reaching in after him. He felt something catch his ankle and he kicked out, feeling his heel land with a satisfying crunch on someone's nose.

Ezra kept scrambling forward, following the pipe down and finally dropping down onto the walk of the sewer which it lead out to. Falling on his butt, Ezra scooted up against the wall and dragged in ragged gasps of air. When his breathing finally evened out somewhat, a burning sensation in his ankle and lower calf made itself known. Ezra peered down at his leg and saw a tear in his cheap linen pants. Red was bleeding through the fabric. He quickly undid the cloth ankle wrap and pulled his pant leg up. A jagged cut extended from the middle of his calf all the way down to his ankle. It was shallow though and already bleeding sluggishly.

Ezra let out a curse, damn human. It seems the curved knife had come into play more than the one time Ezra had seen the man brandish it at him in threat. He re-wrapped his pant leg and stood up. Not much pain, he took a few experimental steps and was happy to find that the damage was negligible. Another successful near escape. Three years on the street had taught Ezra that you took the wins as they came.

Walking along the sewer, he kept pace for a kilometer or so, before coming to a particular pipe. Climbing in he began his ascent. This one came out near Capital's ever illegal red light district. A good place to meet with Mok, the man was nearly always around there, either at Alibbi or the Dream Crescent. Clambering out of the pipe he stood up and dusted off his pants. Peering at the sun he noted the time as being around midday and smiled.

He'd meet with Mok, hand off the message, then he'd be on his merry way with enough credits jingling merrily in his pocket for him to afford meals for the rest of the week and the energy sling shot he'd been saving up for. All in all, this was turning out to be a good day.

Hands fisted into his shirt backing and slammed him up against a wall. While his head was spinning, a slender arm was jammed up against his throat. Blinking his vision to focus while struggling to breathe, Ezra looked up into the face of a helmet he'd never seen before.

"I got some questions, kid," the voice was unexpectedly high and young.

Ezra glanced up and down at the figure, surprised to find it girlish and small.

"I-yo-" Ezra struggled to breath and talk, words forced out between each desperate gasp for air.

The arm let up a little, but only enough for him to talk.

"Who are you?" Ezra said, voice strained.

The person laughed, a cold heartless chuckle that was most definitely feminine.

"Not Guglielmo if that's what you're worried about, sweetheart. Now, you tell me about Mok and I'll let you go," her voice was patronizing.

Ezra squirmed, trying to break free. A blaster was forced painfully into his stomach. Ezra let out a yip of pain.

"C'mon kid, I'm being nice here, you squeal, I let you go without anybody getting hurt."

"If you're not with Mok or Guglielmo, who?" Ezra asked, determined to know because the icy hand of fear was gripping at his heart that this was an Imperial.

"Bounty," she said shortly.

Ezra felt despair fill him. This wasn't a good situation. Bounty hunters were cruel and callous, they'd gut someone to get the information they needed. But if he spoke, Mom would do worse.

"Don' know nothing," Ezra said, hands clutching at the arm.

The girl was silent, the blaster barrel relaxed and Ezra waited for her to pull the trigger. She leaned in instead, helmeted face piece coming up to his ear.

"You wanna know what I do to little rats like you?" She said softly, "It's not pretty."

Ezra swallowed around the tightness in his throat, mouth now exceedingly dry. He closed his eyes. He could feel the girl relax as if she'd won.

Opening his eyes he stared at her visor, blue eyes obstinate.

"Anything you can do, Mok will do ten times worse," he said slowly, voice shaking.

She leaned away from him, blaster being holstered but her arm staying firm.

"You're right, I can't do much, but an ISB agent can do a whole hell of a lot worse."

With that she used her painted elbow guard to hit him in the face, hard enough to cast him into unconsciousness.

* * *

Kanan liked Lothal, it was easy to since the place beat Bnach by a landslide. It was easy to be impressed by blue skies and normal civilians when all you'd seen for over a year was the toxic atmosphere of Bnach and its many residential prisoners.

He let himself wander at first, business secondary in his mind. He needed to become familiar with the place anyway before he could perform any real work. The warm, lazy bustle took over though and he found himself strolling along with thoughts of his job far from his mind.

Green flashed in his peripheral and his head turned. The soft flesh of green lekku trailed down to be followed by a pretry waist and soft curves. They weren't much complimented by the pilot outfit, but Kanan had never had conventional tastes.

The attractive figure was perched on a ladder scrapping away at carbon scouring with a cleaning torch. Kanan watched for a few moments before the torch flicked off and the Twi'lek began her descent down the ladder. Kanan eyed the pendulous movement of the lekku and the sway of hips as one foot went down followed by the other.

When she was on the ground, Kanan took his chance to speak.

"I always heard a scour brush worked better, a bit old fashioned if you ask me, but if the old ways worked once they probably still work now."

He was pleased as she turned around, revealing a pretty face with sharp intelligent eyes and thin brows that were currently raised.

"Is that so?" She responded, eyeing him in a way that made him know he was being judged in the next few minutes.

He needed to impress.

"Yeah, tried and true as some would say," he paused, turning his eyes to the ship despite his own desire to just keep his eyes on her, "this your freighter?"

Watching the light sparkle in her eyes and the pride which lit up her face, Kanan knew he'd asked the right question.

"Yep, my one and only," the women moved forward, patting the hull of the ship, "we've been through a lot."

"What brings a captain like you to a planet like this?" Kanan asked, curiosity now aroused.

"What has every other captain like me on a planet like this, work," she said, now moving to dismantle the scour torch and put it away.

Kanan was disappointed to see he'd lost at least some of her attention.

"I very much doubt there are many other captains like you."

She turned, eyed him with a touch of mirth and wariness. It seemed she was reconsidering him.

"And what do you do exactly, Mr. Space man?"

"It's Kanan," he almost slipped up and gave her his full name, "and I do odd jobs, little things here and there, whatever gets food on the table."

Her eyes softened a little and she turned back to him, a piece of the torch still in hand.

"Alright, Kanan, I'm Hera."

He was surprised to see her extend her hand. He gripped it though, giving a firm shake, figuring that she was the sort of woman who wanted respect and to deal with people on the same level as her.

"If I need an odd job done, I guess I'll know who to call," she had a small smirk on her face.

Kanan grinned in response, about to say something, when a large creature ambled up the dock door. Kanan stared for a few seconds as he recognized it as being a Lasat. They were impossibly rare, and they usually had no liking for the Empire.

"Hera, I got the supplies," the Lasat said, setting a box down inside the ship.

The Lasat's yellow green eyes, cat like and harsh, cut to Kanan. It wasn't the most friendly of looks.

"Who's this?" The Lasat asked.

"Zeb, this is Kanan," Hera said before turning to Kanan, "Kanan this is Zeb, he's a part of my crew."

Kanan felt his mind turn. Where one found a Lasat, one found a seditionist. It had been a saying of the ISB for the time following the Lasat genocide and it had been relatively true. Without a home and many refugees, most of those sympathetic to them were haters of the Empire. Kanan wondered if this was going to hold true for the lovely Twi'lek captain.

"Nice to meet you," Kanan said, holding a hand out to Zeb.

Zeb's gaze narrowed and he didn't take the offered hand.

"I'd say the same if I meant it," Zeb spat.

"Zeb," Hera softly chided, stepping in front of him.

Zeb shrugged his shoulders and moved back into the ship, casting Kanan another look.

"Sorry about that," Hera apologized, lekku tinged and her appearance a beautiful mix between calm and flustered.

Kanan realized he was staring. He blushed, felt immediately idiotic and then, with an unconscious tic he had done as a padawan, rubbed the back of his head.

"Not real friendly, is he?" Kanan said.

Hera shook her head, "no, not terribly."

Kanan glanced at the sky and saw that late afternoon was nearly exhausted and evening would be upon them soon. He had his meeting with Agent Oamuys.

"Maybe I'll see you around," he said, taking a few steps back but not looking away from her.

She smiled, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Maybe," she replied.

Kanan turned around, he couldn't help the grin on his face. It had been a very long time since he'd met a girl like Hera.

* * *

Sabine had hauled the loth-rat onto her shoulder before heading back towards the small room her and Ketsu were sharing. This kid didn't count as an actual bounty, but she'd been hoping that as a child he'd be more vulnerable to intimidation. Mok's reputation however was a formidable thing to challenge and it seemed even this kid knew not to double cross the man. The whole thing had been disappointing.

Nimbly climbing the stairs, she opened the door and quickly bound the boy. Injecting him with some heavy duty sedatives, she removed her helmet and then her armor. She felt jittery and tense, stressed out. She just wished Ketsu would get here.

While she waited she washed her face and started to do inventory on her little 'pieces of art', she threw a glance at the kid seeing that he was still jumbled in his position in the corner where she'd thrown him. Sighing, she turned her attention back to the inventory.

"Didn't know we got bounty from picking up street rats," Ketsu's voice was a rich sound even though she was only two years older than Sabine.

Sabine startled, not having heard the seventeen year old enter.

"Ketsu, hey," she said in greeting.

Sabine stood, a needy pushing desire that had been burning in her all day coming to the forefront of her thoughts. She stood up and approached the ebony skinned Mandolorian.

"He's the means to a bounty, not worth bantha fodder," she explained, wrapping an arm around Ketsu's neck to pull her down into a harsh kiss.

Ketsu pulled back after a few moments, amusement in her eyes.

"That bad a day?" She said with a laugh.

Sabine responded by crassly slipping a hand into Ketsu's pants, fingers moving with alacrity.

"If I didn't know better I'd think you liked me, Ms. Wren," Ketsu said, tossing her helmet onto the small bed and pulling Sabine to her.

Sabine grinned viciously up at her.

"Means to an end, Ketsu, nothing else," she bit into Ketsu's neck drawing a moan from the other girl.

"I-" Ketsu let out a breathy moan as Sabine continued her aggressive assault, "I think I can live with that."

The two girls fell on the bed.

Sabine awoke before Ketsu. She looked ruefully at the slender, naked body of the other girl before easing out of bed. She let out a sigh, dressing herself. Running a hand through her short multi-colored hair she wondered what she was doing.

She felt, empty. A nagging hole was in her, guilt and fear swarming at the edges and threatening to swallow her. She'd left the Empire, but she still didn't feel like she had escaped the biting darkness which had consumed her when she'd realized what she'd done to her planet, her people, all in the name of the Empire.

Ketsu filled it, sort of. Their relationship was, complicated. It had been going on since right before she'd turned fifteen. They had always been close in the academy and striking out as bounty hunters had isolated them from the world they'd known and pulled them closer together. There was something raw and animalistic about it though, and something so impersonal that it hurt. Sabine was the one who wanted it that way though, she didn't want to depend on Ketsu for that kind of support. Something though, something was missing in her life and she felt as if she was going to soon implode if she didn't find out what.

She let out another sigh, washed her face again and then turned to the boy.


	2. Chapter 2

**So it goes.**

By PerilousPie

* * *

Chapter 2: Morality is for the Dead

* * *

"Agent Jarrus, I'm glad you could make it," Agent Oamuys was a tall, broad woman.

Kanan had changed upon returning to the Imperial base, before quickly heading to Agent Oamuys' office. He was now seated across from her, uncomfortable in the stiff chair and the chilled room.

"Of course," Kanan replied, he shifted in the chair, the uniform pinching in all the wrong places.

"You spent most of you career on Coruscant and then Bnach," Oamuys said, eyes fastened to a data pad in front of her.

She looked up to him to confirm this. Kanan hesitated; with pale, translucent skin, her large nearly black eyes were alarming. The stiff, crew cut of black, bristled hair did not help the image.

"Yes," Kanan replied.

She nodded slowly, looking once again down at the data pad.

"And you keep all of your sessions dark?" Her voice was curious.

Kanan gave a nod. This question came up a lot, but mainly from other interrogators.

"I find it better to not film any of my interrogation sessions."

Everyone assumed it was because of the cruelty of his methods, that he kept them closed because even the Empire might balk at the depravity. It was rather the opposite, Kanan didn't like violence, he found there were much better methods for extracting the truth.

"I'll be candid, Agent Jarrus," Oamuys said, setting the data pad on the desk.

Kanan nearly snorted, candid, he'd never met a candid person in his life.

"Results aren't expected out of this team, many are rather unsure of the purpose of our presence. I am hoping to prove this otherwise. While I'm not expecting you to make headway, I am expecting full cooperation."

Kanan gave a stiff nod.

"Good, if you do find anything, report it to me. Agent Theodorus of Enforcement and Agent Pou of Investigation are working with me. If you wish to, you may join them in their individual endeavors, or you can work on your own," with that, Agent Oamuys stood and moved over to the door.

Kanan followed, waiting for her to open it and then stepping out.

"Have a good day, Agent Jarrus," her tone indicated that she didn't care what kind of a day he had.

Kanan managed a terse smile and polite response before the door shut. Stiffly keeping posture, Kanan resisted his urge to sigh and slump as he headed back towards his room. It was getting late and the day would be ending soon. He decided to skip chow, or any form of dinner, and headed back to the Interrogations office. He still needed to finish up his transfer paperwork and make sure his living stipend was adjusted for Lothal.

When he arrived, he saw the secretary Agent Linch standing and talking to a young teenage girl dressed in ridiculously colored Mandalorian armor.

"Jarrus!" Linch said, a look of relief on his face.

Kanan had a sinking feeling, knowing that that was the look someone gave someone else when something was going to quickly not be there problem.

"This is one of our Bounty Hunters, Ishtar."

Kanan eyed her skeptically. A keen pair of hazel eyes met his, regarding him cooly. Kanan's gaze flicked to the Mandalorian helmet in her hand and the blasters at her hip.

"Agent Jarrus with Interrogation," Kanan said in greeting.

The girl's lip quirked in a acerbic smile before dipping down again.

"Pleasure," she said, a biting insincerity in her tone that was well masked.

"What's this about?" Kanan asked, glancing over at Linch, a small mousy man who appeared perpetually anxious.

"Well-" Linch started, the girl interrupted him.

"I brought you someone who can help in taking apart Mok's syndicate."

Kanan raised a brow, he'd heard a little about Mok since arriving, apparently the biggest black market dealer on Lothal and someone who did nasty business. He'd been a thorn in the Empire's side. Whoever took him down could expect a big payday. Something about the girl rubbed Kanan the wrong way.

"Where is this 'someone'?" Kanan asked.

It was Linch who answered.

"I just put him in the cells."

Kanan gave a nod, and then turned to the girl.

"Well, thank you for your brave efforts in aiding the Empire, we'll make note of it."

Kanan was pleased to see the flash of anger in the girl's eyes at his dismissal of her.

"I want to know what he says, I don't do handouts, not even for the Empire," she said, stepping in front of him as he tried to walk away.

Kanan stopped, was silent for a few moments and eyed her sharply.

"This is the Empire, sweetheart, if you want to place your bets, you sure as hell shouldn't be doing it with us."

The girl bristled, but she seemed to understand that she wasn't going to get anywhere with Kanan.

"Make sure _my_ prisoner is processed with Agent Trinh'son," she said, addressing Linch.

"Bu-but Agent Trinh'son, he's been transferred," Linch said timidly.

"Well find me someone else other than than Agent Jarrus," she said rudely.

Kanan spun around, he was not going to be underhanded by an adolescent girl.

"Agent Linch, you will process the Empire's prisoner under me, Agent Kanan Jarrus, and you," he said, turning to the girl, "if you want any of the information I get from _my_ prisoner, you'll wait till it's in the news. Now, please leave the facility or I will have to escort you out."

Kanan watched the girl's eyes flash with venom before an acidulous smile came on her face. Kanan knew he'd just made an enemy, and probably one he didn't want to have. Mandalorians of any age were trained killers. Somehow, he didn't care much at the moment.

"Of course," she said in mock subservience, throwing her arms wide in a faux gesture of benevolence, "all hail the Empire."

Kanan watched her exit with a gut feeling that the girl was probably going to get a hold of the information with or without his help. With a nod to Linch who saluted, he shook his head and headed to his quarters. Tomorrow would be a new day.

* * *

Hera was frowning. Zeb had come to learn that a frowning Hera was never a good thing, the woman had a suspiciously improbable amount of patience and hope which was not often exhausted.

"Whassit?" Zeb said, looking over at her from where she was kneeling on the ground.

"Diagnostic got done," she said absently, eyes roving over the panel she had open.

"And?" Zeb said, moving to stand near her with his arms crossed.

Hera let out a sigh and with her hands on her thighs pushed herself to a standing position.

"Turbine reactor is busted," she said.

It was Zeb's turn to sport a frown and he looked quite distraught.

"I thought it just needed a bit of maintenance?" Zeb asked, a fragile hope peeking out meekly.

Hera shook her head, hands going to her hips.

"The fission moderator was barely there when we landed, it gave out after resting and the turbine reactor can't function without it."

Zeb gave a nod. That wasn't good news.

"Can we replace it?" He asked.

Hera's mouth did a little quibble and Zeb, who had learned that a quibbling mouth meant Hera had news she didn't want to share, prepared himself.

"Yes," she started, hesitating before continuing, "but they aren't exactly easy to come by. Even if someone did have one, I doubt we'd be able to afford it."

"So we're stuck planet side?" Zeb asked even though he already knew the answer.

Hera nodded.

"Let's-" she let out a sigh, "let's just let it alone for tonight, we can worry about it tomorrow."

Chopper came rolling in and let out a few beeps and whirs. Hera patted him on his top and moved towards the common area, her shoulders slumped. Her disappointment was palpable. Zeb understood. If they were stuck on planet that meant they couldn't take jobs, no jobs meant no credits and they were already having to pay for supplies, repairs, and the daily docking fee. Rubbing a hand against his head, he thought about what he could do. There wasn't much to do except to go out and try to find a fission moderator as soon as possible and to do whatever was necessary to get a hold of it.

* * *

"Someone's tense."

Sabine flashed a glare at Ketsu who in turn let out a soft laugh.

"Want to talk about it?" Ketsu asked.

It was the next day and they were currently in the room cleaning and preparing their weapons. They didn't have a bounty at the moment and they had plenty of money to last them until they did. Sabine was at the desk while Ketsu was on the bed.

"No," Sabine snapped, forcing herself to pay attention to the small round containers she was filling with the material for smoke bombs.

Ketsu's brow raised and she leaned back, not as amused. She was cleaning her staff and had just finished cleaning Sabine's set of WESTAR-35s, a testament to the trust between the two.

"Alright," she said, eyeing Sabine as she continued working.

It was silent a few moments, the two girls working.

"You never did tell me how it went with the street rat," Ketsu said, trying to get Sabine to open up.

"I didn't," Sabine replied.

Ketsu shook her head as Sabine didn't elaborate. Several more minutes passed in silence and then Ketsu got a sharp grin on her face, setting the staff to the side. Sabine ignored her, continuing her work on the last three smoke bombs. Ketsu slunk over to Sabine, a hand going on the other girl's shoulder and fluttering down Sabine's bicep. Leaning down, she nipped at Sabine's neck.

Sabine shrugged Ketsu off.

"I'm working," she explained, still not looking at Ketsu but peering intently at her work.

Ketsu stood up, disappointment on her face. She then moved to the desk, pushing a few items to the side and then hopping onto the surface. Sabine ground her teeth, setting her tools down to glare at her friend.

"What?" She snapped.

"I'm bored," Ketsu said in a rather unconvincing whine, "and I want to know about what happened or at least get to do something. Besides, you're tense, it might be good for you."

"I'm not in the mood," Sabine said dryly.

Ketsu didn't look particularly happy about it, but she shrugged.

"Then tell me about the boy," she said.

"Nothing, Trinh'son isn't there anymore, some tightwad named Jarrus replaced him, he'll probably release the kid. So I didn't get anything and we're stuck with nothing on getting Mok."

"Why do you want to get Mok so bad?" Ketsu seemed perplexed by Sabine's irritation, "you've been chasing shadows to get dirt on him, picking up little street rats on the off chance they'll spill something."

Sabine stood up, feeling annoyed and overwhelmed. She didn't have to explain herself to Ketsu. Besides she didn't even know what her motivations were for wanting to take Mok down, and not knowing left her in a confusing flurry of upset.

"I'm going out," she said shortly, heading to the door after clipping her belt back on and putting her blasters in their holsters.

Ketsu said nothing, watching her go with a contemplative look.

* * *

Ezra woke to an empty nauseous stomach and a pounding head. Blinking past the gritty stickiness of his eyes he looked around himself to find that he was in his worst nightmare. An Imperial prison cell. Panic surged through him and he scrambled to a sitting position. He had to get out, he had to get out. The walls seemed to be pressing in on him and with a sense of urgency, Ezra began checking himself over.

He had nothing, everything he'd been carrying with him was gone. His lock picks, his little energy dagger, every little knick and knack he kept on himself for when times got desperate was gone. That Mandalorian girl had stripped him bare. With nothing to work with Ezra's mind began to go through his options. There weren't really any.

"Hey!" Ezra yelled, hoping that someone was guarding his door.

"Hey! I have to go pee!" Maybe that would incite the guards to come it, if there were any.

No one answered and Ezra realized that there was no way he was important enough for them to leave guards outside his cell. The question was, how did he end up in a cell? The Mandalorian girl definitely hadn't been an Imperial, she'd said she was a bounty hunter. Or maybe she'd lied. Ezra shivered, the room temperature of the cell was a lot cooler than outside and he curled up, hands brushing at his arms. He just needed to think of a way out of here.

Hours passed and nothing came to mind. If he had his screwdriver, or multi-purpose tool as it was generally known as, he'd be able to at least fiddle with the vent. When he was considering the plan of faked heart attack, the door slid open.

A tall gangly sort of man stood there, not exactly a perfect image of an Imperial but there was something about the predatory grin on his face which made Ezra shiver.

The first thing he did was laugh, a horrible barking laugh that was loud and raucous. Ezra cringed at the sound, drawing into himself.

"Jarrus it's the damndest guy," the man said to himself.

He shook his head before waving over at someone outside the room. An IT-O droid hovered into Ezra's sight, the round black piece of machinery with the eerie red glow of its operation light. Ezra felt terror seize him and he threw himself back against the wall. He'd heard horror stories about IT-Os.

"I guess I'll do some of his work for him, let him settle in before having to do the nasty stuff."

The man let out another barking laugh.

* * *

Kanan hadn't slept well. Dreams of distant times plagued him, Billaba's sonorous voice reaching out to him through the years and the many atrocities and sins he'd committed. He'd been in the Jedi gardens of Coruscant, in the training hall, murders, the awful smell of burnt flesh from blaster wounds. Kanan rubbed a hand across his face and tried to steady his breathing so the knot in his chest would loose. It didn't really help.

He was sluggish as he got ready, lackluster as he gelled his hair back and shaved. His uniform felt heavy and uncomfortable, a reminder that he was not a Jedi now and that his past was far away from him. Staring in the mirror he wondered how he had come so far from the curious and innocent boy named Caleb Dume, Billaba would be so disappointed.

Wanting to escape the thoughts which hadn't haunted him for quite some time, Kanan thought about what to do for the day. A pretty smile, sharp green eyes and the slim curves of a certain Twi'lek came to mind. Hera, that was her name, wasn't it? A desire to go see the woman entered him and he found himself deciding on what he would do for the day.

Kanan headed to the transport area once again, ignoring the memo he had, and taking once again a speeder. He stopped at the same Imperial station to drop the speeder off at and began his trek to the port market.

Today was as crowded as yesterday. The warmth of the Lothal sun was pleasant and Kanan wandered for a bit, enjoying the scenery.

His enjoyment of it all was interrupted by shouts and screams. Pushing past a crowd that was quickly forming, Kanan came into view of a pair of troopers harassing a stall owner. They'd thrown the merchandise, a quantity of baked goods, on the ground. One soldier had his hands wrapped around a woman's wrists, a woman who was screaming in hysterics, crying and babbling in some language other than common. Kanan was watching the other soldier point his gun at the two, shouting in common at the woman to stop. His efforts were only making her scream more.

Kanan pushed forward, entering the circle the crowd had made. The soldier immediately turned his gun to Kanan. Kanan raised his hands, grateful that the weapon was no longer pointed at the woman.

"Hey, why don't we take it easy?" He said, stepping closer.

The soldier seemed unsure, obviously a young man probably right out of the academy and far away from home.

"Halt!" The soldier stuttered out.

Kanan smiled warmly, hands still held up.

"C'mon, let her go and we can come up with something that doesn't get you two court-martialled, how about that?" Kanan used the small bit of the force he was still connected with to lace his words.

The soldier let the woman go and she fell to the ground, weeping into her hands. The other soldier pointed his blaster to the ground. Kanan stepped in even closer so he was right next to the two men.

"What are you doing?" Kanan said in an authoritative whisper.

The soldiers looked baffled and the one lifted his blaster again.

"You're compromising my operation, I'm Agent Jarrus of the ISB, with Interrogation and you two idiots are going to blow my cover."

He didn't have to see their faces to know that they were pale and shocked.

"Y-yes sir," one of them managed to stutter out.

"Now, hit me with the gun and say something about it not being worth the trouble. You're going to walk away after that and hope that my entire operation hasn't been ruined because you two don't know how to deal with street market licenses."

The men both nodded dumbly and stood there.

"Hit me," Kanan hissed.

The soldier who had been holding the woman seemed to catch on a little faster and brought his gun up, smacking Kanan in the chest with the butt of his gun and sending him to the floor. Kanan hit hard and stayed their so as to appear dazed. The soldiers managed to shout something at him which was believable and then left. Once they were gone, Kanan got up and crouched down next to the woman. She was still crying, but not as hysterically. Kanan smiled at her and held a hand out, she took it and he lifted her to her feet.

The crowd was dispersing, a soft murmur replacing the tense silence of the people from before.

"Here, let me, I speak Huttese."

Kanan was shocked to see the Mandalorian from last night crouching down. She smiled at him, a malicious tinge which made Kanan uncomfortable.

Unfortunately, she hadn't been the only person to witness the event.

"Kanan?" Hera apparently had seen it all, along with her friend the Lasat.

The Lasat was eyeing him with approval and Hera looked shocked, worried and admiring.

"That was really brave of you, standing up to the Empire like that, not anyone could do that" she said, looking at the woman.

The Mandalorian girl, Ishtar as she went by, cocked her head and eyed Kanan with vicious curiosity.

"Yeah, stupid Imperials mess up everyone's lives," Zeb said, righting the woman's stand.

The Mandalorian girl calmed the woman down and helped her salvage some of the pastries, all the while keeping an eye on Kanan. Hera helped as did Kanan. By the end, the woman was thanking them profusely and the Mandalorian girl sweetly interpreted. They then said their good byes, the woman returning to her stand and the Mandalorian girl flashing Kanan a nasty look akin to the cat catching the canary before disappearing in the crowd.

"I saw that they hit you, are you alright?" Hera asked.

Kanan nearly forgot about his new predicament from how wonderful it felt to be under the full attention of Hera. She looked worried and proud and he wished she was always looking at him like that.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing at his chest, "I'm okay."

"I'm glad," Hera said softly, regarding him differently than she had before.

"I guess you guys aren't fans of the Empire either."

Kanan knew he shouldn't be prodding, knew that more likely than not this was going to lead to difficult situations. It would be better if he said good bye and parted ways with them, they would be safer for it and he would be able to work the job he did without difficulties arising. He had never really done what he was supposed to.

"No," Hera said, face darkened.

Zeb looked no more friendly on the subject either.

"Look, why don't we treat you to dinner, see if we can thank you for doing what you did?" Hera offered.

Kanan wanted to, he very much wanted to, but he had things he had to do, the speeder had to be turned in by a certain time, he had to figure out what to do with this situation.

"Umm," he hesitated, wanting to say yes.

"That's okay, I get it, you probably have somewhere you need to be. Maybe you can swing by and visit us some other time, we're going to be on planet for a little while. We'd love to share a cup of caf with you."

Kanan found himself agreeing and then promising to hold her to it. They parted ways, her smile brandished in his mind.

* * *

Arriving back at base, Kanan was happy with how the day had gone. Now back in his uniform, he was headed to dinner when he suddenly realized he'd completely forgotten to turn in his paperwork with Linch. Rushing off, he headed to the Interrogations office.

"Agent Jarrus," Linch said, an anxious little smile on his face.

Kanan waved at him, handing over the files he had meant to turn in so much earlier. Why Bnach's system was still run on offline storage chips, he didn't know, but he knew it was making his getting completely into Lothal's system a pain.

"I-well, your acquisition, you have some new updates on it," Linch said, wide eyed as he looked at Kanan like he would bite.

Acquisition? Kanan hadn't had any acquisitions since arriving, no body to interrogate. Then it hit him, the person the Mandalorian girl had brought in that he'd so idiotically taken hand of. Now he was going to have to deal with that paperwork.

"I-I sent you the memo," Linch said meekly.

"Wait, what do you mean new updates? All that should have happened was them being processed?" Kanan asked, confused.

Linch replied by offering out a data pad with the file on it. Kanan looked at it, apparently someone had ordered an IT-O droid. A pretty straight forward interrogation tactic, but who would have the gall to go above his head on something like this? When Kanan saw the name of who had signed off on it he was pissed. Kriffing Hooge. He knew that Hooge was a complete skrogger, but this was a step too far.

"You let someone have access to my acquisition?!" Kanan said, pissed in general about the situation.

He didn't let Linch reply.

"You ever, and I mean ever, let someone mess with my acquisitions without my explicit permission I will have your kriffing shebs into Investigation, from now on, all of my acquisitions will be only accessible to me, got it?"

Linch gave a quick nod. Kanan gave a nod back, hoping that the pale face of Linch and the fact that he looked like he was going to pass out were indicators that the man would fulfill his wishes.

Kanan backed off, letting out a frustrated sigh. It was too late to do anything about Hooge, but he should probably go in and see his acquisition. He looked at the data pad. Hooge had submitted them to an hour of torture this morning, another in the afternoon. That was way too much in one day.

The acquisition was in one of the nearby cells and it didn't take Kanan long to get there. He was nearly to the door when something hit him. He automatically brought a hand up to his head. Someone, a force user, was nearby and they were in a lot of pain. Kanan's head was splitting with the complete out pour of emotions through the force. Fumbling blindly, he remembered Billaba's lesson on creating walls to protect yourself and quickly threw up a shoddy one. The pain lessened and he was able to breathe.

That was weird. Kanan stood frozen to the spot. None of the other cells were occupied as far as he was aware. Cautiously approaching the cell where his acquisition was, he stared at it. The force user was in there. Kanan hesitated, wondering that if he entered would he see someone he knew. Maybe someone had survived. His heart was in his throat and everything seemed to depend on what lay behind the door.

Opening the door, Kanan stepped in. The door slid shut behind him and the lights, which had been dim before, turned bright.

A little boy, about ten, was curled in on himself in the far corner of the room. Kanan felt sick. Hooge had tortured a child and it was because Kanan had detained him.

"Please, don't, not anymore," the boy whimpered.

Kanan took in a deep breath.

"You're not going to be hurt anymore," Kanan promised, taking a step farther into the room.

Brilliant blue eyes darted up to him and they were strikingly familiar.

"I'm Kanan Jarrus, I won't let anybody hurt you anymore, now tell me, what's your name?"

The boy seemed to hesitate, but a shine of determination flashed in his eyes which let Kanan know that though the boy was hurt and scared, he was not giving up and he was not broken.

"Ezra," he said softly, "Ezra Bridger."

Kanan felt his mouth go dry, he knew that name, knew it because he'd heard it on Bnach in one of the tiny cramped interrogation cells. He knew it because he had been the one to interrogate Mira and Ephraim Bridger.


	3. Chapter 3

**So it goes.**

By PerilousPie

* * *

Chapter 3: The Tears of the Parents

* * *

"Fission moderator?" The shop keeper said, "no, no, we don't have it."

Zeb's face fell and he scrubbed a hand against the back of his head.

"Karabast," he gritted out.

The shop keeper frowned, taken in partially by Zeb's plight.

"You're not going to find something like that in any of the shops in Capital," he explained.

A glower came on Zeb's face and the shop keeper swallowed in fear.

"I'm very sorry," the shop keeper apologized profusely.

Zeb just waved his hand, fed up with the whole process. He'd spent the last five hours searching, his whole morning and part of his afternoon wasted by a bunch of shop keepers or mechanics turning him away. They needed that fission moderator though and not finding one wasn't exactly an option.

* * *

"Why should I trust you?" The boy said, glaring suspiciously at Kanan from where he was huddled protectively around himself.

Kanan, still stunned by the revelation, and struggling to come to terms with the fact that he had a force sensitive child in front of him, did not answer. That and the fact that he'd had a hand in the boy's difficult life.

"Is this supposed to be good cop, bad cop? Because I already said everything about Mok, I don't know anything else," the boy's voice which started out defiant, broke a little at the end.

Kanan blinked, right, this kid probably didn't even know about the force and he most definitely didn't know about Kanan's involvement with his parents.

"No, this isn't that," Kanan said, and he wondered if the boy's honesty with his name had more to do with fear of being put at the mercy of the IT-O again.

His mind was racing through what he should do, if he kept the boy here, at some point they would do a more in depth in-processing, one which included a midichlorian count. If he let the boy go though, he would end up back on the street. Is that your problem? Kanan asked himself. He felt guilty for thinking it, but was it really his problem? He could let the kid go and not have to worry about him again. Kanan immediately felt a wave of protest through the force. The boy felt it too and his gaze narrowed.

"How did you do that? Who are you?" The boy, Ezra Kanan reminded himself, said, sounding afraid.

Kanan had a feeling about what he was supposed to do, everything in him revolted at the idea.

"You eaten yet, kid?" Kanan asked distractedly.

"You didn't answer my question," Ezra said in irritation before adding in a quieter voice, "no, what's it matter to you?"

Kanan gave a nod. Pulling out a small data pad he'd brought with him, he punched in a few commands.

"I'm Special Agent Kanan Jarrus with the ISB, I specialize in Interrogation. I didn't do anything, what you felt was the force."

"You're lying," Ezra retorted, "you made that up."

Kanan shook his head.

"Believe me, at this point it's not exactly something you want to have."

Ezra was quiet and Kanan occupied himself with the data pad, completing the paperwork on Ezra Bridger, or technically now Perin Losp, no need to have the actual names. He frowned, the extra need for precaution with using the boy's actual name was his own fault. He'd dragged the truth of the Bridger's son's abilities from the tortured mouth of Mira Bridger.

 _Flashback_

 _"Look, Mrs. Bridger, every moment you draw this out is a mark against your husband," Kanan drawled, watching the woman before him._

 _Mira Bridger was a slight woman, not so very aged, but her time in Imperial prison and then her time in Bnach's penal system had cut harsh lines of exhaustion and weariness across her face. She was wispy, very likely to blow away and Kanan knew just by looking at her that she didn't have much time left. He wasn't sure she'd live to her scheduled execution._

 _"Y-you wouldn't," her voice was hoarse, a trembling soprano of fear and desperation._

 _Kanan kept a straight face, he'd pushed down his emotions a long time ago. This was work, pulling the truth from the enemies of the Empire._

 _"I'm sure he'll last only a day on the out team," Kanan said, voice speculative, cruelly making light of her husband's life._

 _The out team was assigned to the hard labor in the mines, there the acidic dust permeated the air, slowly poisoning the workers. Most didn't survive more than a week._

 _Mira Bridger bowed her upper half, a harsh sob coughing from her._

 _"Please, no," she said softly, and Kanan knew she was begging to someone other than him._

 _It was silent a few long moments as Kanan withheld the guilt which was clawing at the door he shoved it behind._

 _"Then tell me about who you worked with, Mrs. Bridger," Kanan said evenly._

 _"No one," Mira cried out, looking desperately at Kanan, imploring him to believe._

 _"You're lying," Kanan replied coldly, despite the fact that something told him that she was telling the full truth._

 _"No!" Mira nearly shouted, "no one!"_

 _Mira stared up at him, shocking blue eyes staring up at him in tears._

 _"We were alone, it's why we had to," her voice was low with emotion._

 _She was telling the truth and Kanan knew he'd exhausted this line of questioning. There had to be something more though, what else would provoke two parents to risk everything? The only thing he could think of was for an untapped future. Taking a step back, Kanan peered at the data pad he had in hand. According to the files, an Ezra Bridger, age seven, had been their only son. He'd been marked missing/dead, the date coincided with the day of the Bridger's arrest._

 _"What about Ezra?" Kanan said, folding his arms, one hand hanging loosely with the data pad._

 _He watched her stiffen, eyes closing off and a deep fear emanating from her. Kanan probed a little, his weak connection with the force now primarily used to subtly influence prisoners to the truth or to get a more intuitive reading on a situation. What he was getting was that Ezra was important, Mira was hiding something about her son._

 _"He's gone," she said, voice dead._

 _Kanan let a small smile creep on his face, he'd picked the right topic._

Kanan was pulled out of the memory by a med bot arriving along with a droid carrying food. Ezra had just stayed quiet and Kanan, even with his mental shields thrown up, could feel the boy's pain, exhaustion and fading attention. This session was nearing its end.

At the sound of the bots the boy flinched, his eyes which had been at half mast snapped open and Kanan felt a pulse of horrible fear through the force. Kanan nearly left then, willing to let the bots attend to the boy, but after the torture sessions the boy probably wasn't mentally up to having any machine near him.

"It's just food," Kanan said.

Ezra eyed the med bot skeptically.

"And maybe some first aid," Kanan added on.

In truth, the kid wouldn't be able to receive any pain killers, the cocktail of drugs the IT-O served up were dangerous as well as excruciating and the Empire hadn't exactly done a study to see how pain medication interacted with any of the drugs. Kanan wasn't going to risk a deadly combination.

Kanan took the metal tray of food and set it near the boy, dismissing the droid, and then motioned to the med bot.

"No!" Ezra snapped out as soon as it started to approach.

Kanan had it stop.

"It's your choice, kid."

"No," Ezra said more quietly, Kanan could feel the waves of fear and remembered pain bursting out of the boy.

"Alright then," Kanan said, dismissing the med bot as well.

Turning he left the cell.

* * *

The last person Kanan wanted to see was the Mandalorian girl. But there she was, leaned up against the counter of Interrogations with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

"Kanan," she said with mocking cheer.

"Glad to see you working hard, really standing up to the Empire, aren't you?"

Kanan grit his teeth.

"What do you want?"

She moved away from the counter, a pleased smile adorning her lips as she drew her response out.

"I want my intel, from the little loth-rat if you haven't let him go yet," she said, eyeing her nails before looking up at him.

Kanan let out a sigh of annoyance, he didn't have time to deal with this right now, bigger things were piling up.

"Look, you don't tell me, I have a little chat with that pretty little Twi'lek and whatever con you're pulling gets the rug pulled out from under it," the girl flashed a grin, white teeth shining like ragged pearls.

Kanan cursed, even though he'd kind of been anticipating some kind of black mail like this ever since he'd parted ways with the Mandalorian at the market place, it didn't make it any easier having to deal with her. Kanan liked Hera and would prefer that she didn't know about his true identity. But it was more than that, if the half cocked plan he was baking were to work it would need the cooperation of the Twi'lek captain, a cooperation he wouldn't have the moment she knew exactly who he was. This was down to a lot more than a slight infatuation. Mind quickly searching for a solution, he came upon one which would be surprisingly easy so long as he did it right.

"Alright," Kanan said stiffly.

The Mandalorian raised her brows in surprise, she obviously hadn't expected him to bend so quickly. Kanan moved to one of the empty desks in the Interrogation office, Linch was apparently on break, and began using one of the computers to bring up the files from his acquisition. Like he thought, Hooge had committed a perfunctory job and all of the time before Kanan had entered Ezra's cell had been recorded. Ezra had claimed he'd said everything about Mok and Kanan hoped it would be enough to satisfy, at least temporarily, the Mandalorian bounty hunter.

He copied the files onto a storage disk which he ejected from the computer and then, standing up walked back over to the girl.

"Here," he said, holding the disc out, "everything he said."

"Pleasure doing business," she purred out, grabbing the disc before walking away.

Kanan watched her go, his mind now turning to more pressing matters. He needed to speak with Hera.

* * *

Sabine was very pleased, the ISB agent had been easier to deal with than she'd originally anticipated. Then again, she shouldn't be too surprised, Imperials were spineless cowards. With the disc in hand, she headed back to the way-place room which she and Ketsu were using as a temporary base. She knew Ketsu was out gathering intel, probably trying to find a bounty worth tracking, and that would give Sabine plenty of time to peruse the files and find the dirt she needed to take Mok down.

Sabine thought about her near obsession with Mok. Ketsu was right, it didn't make sense. It definitely didn't profit them to take him down, a big crime boss like that wasn't the kind of enemy you wanted to make. But Mok was evil, with a booming sex and slave trade, a hand deep in drug production and distribution (specifically death sticks) and a violent presence on the streets, Mok more than deserved to be taken down. Sabine clenched her fist, this wasn't some silly need to repair the damage she'd done, this wasn't her guilt speaking. She told herself that she was doing this purely because Mok was a bad guy and she, Sabine Wren a bounty hunter, wanted the money bringing Mok in would get her.

Settling herself at the desk, she pulled out a cheap holo transcripter and inserted the disc. With quick, deft fingers she brought the video up and pressed play.

She saw the street rat huddled in the corner of the room. A tall, gangly man was standing at the mouth, hovering over the threshold. He was screwing with a data pad and had obviously just turned the recording on. He let out a horrible laugh, said a few words mentioning the ISB agent Jarrus' name. Sabine cocked her head. So the man she'd dealt with hadn't interrogated the boy. She frowned, tucking away that tid bit with both curiosity and confusion.

An IT-O entered. Sabine was shocked before horror washed over her and guilt built in her gut. It was a heavy nauseating sensation and she had to tighten her hands to fists to stop their trembling. The video proceeded and the IT-O attended to the boy with awful clinical steadiness. She was surprised though, the boy resisted for a long time, said nothing except obscenities and insults. In fact, he lasted an entire hour before the IT-O stopped, its programmed schedule having run its course, and left the room. The interrogator from before didn't even return from before.

The tape blipped black for a second, indicating that the first recording session was over. The next began in a similar manner, except this time the man from before said nothing, save for letting out a horrible bark of laughter before leaving. The boy broke in minutes, sobbing out everything he knew to get it to stop. Sabine felt sick, knowing that the IT-O was on another schedule, most likely another hour, and couldn't hear or rationalize whether the boy broke or not. And she knew, without needing evidence to inform her, that the man from before either was watching without care to the boy's honesty or wasn't even watching at all.

Sabine skipped through parts of the hour, the parts where the boy screamed for his mother and father, or the parts where he simply sobbed. When it was over, Sabine felt ill. The room was unflinchingly quiet, the inculpating walls pressing in around her hissing with silence her blame, her fault in the whole affair. Sabine tried to take in a steadying breath, but failed. This was like the academy, where she'd shone like a star under Imperial tutelage, had pressed her mind to create weapons and to deal harm because to her the Empire had been a brilliant, paradigm which was her lodestar. What amount of blood could stain something so perfect? The crashing walls of illusion had lifted the scales from her eyes and she had seen what she'd done. Death stood at her door as a weary witness. So Sabine had run, and had been running.

This though, this was excusable, wasn't it? What was one street rat when compared to the many who suffered at Mok's hand. She could undermine his sex trade, freeing lives. Taking him down would hurt his entire business and in that, save many more lives than that boy's. Besides, he was a street rat, more likely than not he would be dead or a violent criminal by the time he hit thirteen. No great loss to the galaxy.

Thus rationalized, Sabine felt the weight on her chest lift slightly, even though she herself could feel the falsity of her reasoning. The sound of the door pulled her from her thoughts.

Ketsu had stepped in, a smile on her face. She gave a nod of greeting to Sabine before heading to the water basin to wash her hands and face.

"You look psychotic," Ketsu said cheerily, "good ol' Sabine back?"

Sabine stood up, feeling triumphant.

"I got Mok, Ketsu, after all this time, I got Mok."

Ketsu stiffened, straightening quickly. She stared at Sabine with a pinched brow.

"How?"

Sabine held up the disc with a sharp smile on her face.

"Street rat panned out," she replied.

Ketsu managed a stiff smile, looking for all rights like she was happy for Sabine.

"Good job," she said, moving forward to grab the disc.

Sabine let her, setting both hands on her hips. Ketsu peered at the disc, something about her manner off. She held it up.

"This the only evidence?" She asked.

"Yeah, but I've already seen it, it's not worth much now, I know everything I need to," Sabine said flippantly.

An emotion crossed Ketsu's face, something very worrying, but Sabine didn't notice.

"I see," Ketsu replied.

"I'm going to head out, make the best of the intel, if you wanna come, you can," Sabine offered, ladening herself with weapons.

Ketsu shook her head, eyes distant.

"No, that's alright, you did the work, you can net the pay."

"Alright, you're missing out though," Sabine called over her shoulder, exiting the room.

Ketsu's smile faded, and she stared at the door with a knit brow and crossed arms.

"I'm sorry, Sabine," she said softly, before glancing down at the disc.

* * *

Hera was starting to get worried.

"Nothing?" She asked.

Zeb shook his head solemnly.

Hera let out a sigh, crossing her arms and staring to the side in thought. Zeb felt useless, he hated feeling useless. With a frustrated huff, he started pacing. After a few minutes, Hera spoke.

"How many nights do we have left to dock?" Hera asked.

Zeb shrugged.

"'Nother two, three weeks," he replied, "but that's not gonna help us if we can't get off the kriffing planet."

Hera gave a nod.

"I know, but we need to save money. I-I think I'm going to try setting the Ghost out on the plains," she said hesitantly.

Zeb's eyes blew wide with shock.

"Seriously?! Don't they have, I don't know, creatures, out there?" Zeb responded, gesturing in a direction which may or may not have been towards the plains.

"Look, it's not like we have many options, if the Ghost gets grounded and we run out of credits we'll lose her," Hera replied testily.

"Yeah, and then we can slowly starve or be eaten by wild animals in the wastelands of Lothal, great plan, besides can you even get this piece of bantha fodder off the ground?" Zeb bit back, the situation wasn't one he dealt with very well.

Give Zeb blaster shots and battles and he could keep his cool, give him waiting games and mechanical failures and he was bound to lose it. Useless was not something he dealt well with.

"I can reroute auxiliary power from the back up power cells, that way we don't have to use the turbine reactor, it should be enough to get us out of city limits."

Zeb let out a huff, about to say something when his ears pricked up.

"Wha' was that?" He said.

Hera blinked in surprise.

"What was 'what'?" She asked.

Zeb held a hand up, "listen."

There was someone knocking on the docking door. The two exchanged a confused look, before Hera shrugged, moving towards the door. They climbed down the ladder into the loading area and hesitated once again. The knocking was louder as they were now closer to the source.

"Well, here goes nothing," Hera said, opening the door.

The docking door lowered to reveal the man from before, Kanan. Both Hera and Zeb looked surprised.

"Kanan?" Hera spoke first.

Kanan gave a smile, but his face was grim and occupied.

"Hi, sorry this is last minute, but I need to ask you a favor."

Zeb and Hera exchanged glances again. Hera looked to Kanan.

"Why don't you come inside," she invited.

They ended up sitting around the table in the common area of the Ghost, Zeb and Hera sitting across from Kanan. The two were eyeing him with interest and curiosity but were patiently waiting for him to speak.

"Look, I know you guys haven't known me long, and I haven't known you two very long either," Kanan started.

"Ya got that right," Zeb muttered.

Hera shot him a reprimanding glance before turning to Kanan to prompt him to continue.

"But, I think I can trust you, or at least I can trust how much you two don't like the Empire."

Kanan paused.

"Do you two know about the Force?"

Hera and Zeb both blinked in confusion, taken aback at the sudden change in topic. Then, recent events came to mind and they both exchanged another look.

"We know enough," Hera answered for them.

"Okay, do you know the term force-sensitive?" Kanan asked.

The room became tense at the word.

"Yes," Hera replied, tone hesitant, "they're hunted down by the Imperials."

"Then I'm hoping you'll understand why I came to you, I found a force-sensitive child."

Hera let out a gasp, and Zeb leaned forward.

"He's been in an Imperial cell, I saw him get picked up, he levitated stuff and the Imperials took him, I can get him out, but once I do I can't keep him," Kanan explained, "if he stays with the Empire, I'm afraid of what they'll do to him, I just need to get him somewhere safe."

Kanan felt some guilt for lying, but at this point, he'd lied so much it seemed a little thing to do for the safety of another. Lying to Hera though sent a prick of guilt through him which lingered longer than most.

It was silent, and Kanan could see the cogs turning, knew that they were deliberating and weighing how much they could trust him and just how much they were willing to risk. It seemed they were willing to risk it all.

"Okay," Hera said, "you get him here, we'll help him."

Kanan gave a relieved nod. He'd known Hera was a good woman, a better person than he'd ever be.

"I can bring him tonight, just, be waiting," Kanan said, standing up.

Hera and Zeb showed him out and when the doors rose, Zeb looked in worry at Hera.

"What if he's lying?" Zeb asked.

"We're just going to have to take that risk."

* * *

Kanan knew that releasing the boy would be easy, in fact, it would look weirder if he kept him locked up since the kid had no value. But making sure the boy got where he needed to be would be harder. It was one thing letting guards escort your prisoner out another to try to do it yourself.

Getting back to the base, he was making his way to Interrogations, intent on having guards show the boy out. He could then slip back out and meet the boy, taking him to the ship would be relatively easy after that.

"Sir."

Kanan halted, so in his own head he had barely realized someone was talking to him. It was a cadet.

"I have a message for you, sir," the teenager said, offering out a data pad.

Kanan took it in a daze, he needed to get Ezra out, his duties as an Imperial came second.

Holding the data pad up he entered his information and code so he could have access. It was a message from Oamuys. It was relatively short and to the point, she wanted a meeting with him tomorrow morning. It didn't say why and Kanan felt a roll of unease. Summonings weren't necessarily a bad thing, they were often routine, but this one he wasn't so sure about.

"Thank you, cadet," Kanan said, handing the data pad back to the teenager.

He dismissed the cadet and continued on his way. Whatever was brewing, it could wait. Arriving at Interrogations, Kanan saw Linch. He hailed the man and put in the necessary order, strongly suggesting that it should be done by today. Linch, still terrified of Kanan, scrambled to get it done. Kanan, satisfied that it would actually be done headed out.

Prisoner release was a two-fold process. Most prisoners were shipped off, used for hard labor whether or not they had committed a crime. But you couldn't ship everybody away to prison and releases were made, usually of very minor violations, or if someone had information, and every so often someone who deserved freedom was granted it by someone in the Empire who actually had a heart. The Imperial system was not impervious to human nature and such errs, though not as often as they should have been, still occurred.

Release from Lothal's central holding cells dumped people off at the public health and welfare building run by Imperials. This is where Kanan went, dressed in his civilian garb. Time passed slowly, and Kanan felt tense. What if Linch didn't release the boy? Or what if Hooge managed to butt in again?

A transport pulled up, and Kanan watched two soldiers drag the boy out. Ezra was set on a bench rather ungracefully, and the soldiers left. The boy sat there and Kanan hesitated approaching, almost unconsciously he probed out with the force. There was still so much pain, but it was clouded over with fear and worry and despair. Kanan was regretting not informing the boy of his plan, but he hadn't had time.

"Hey," Kanan called, nearing the bench.

Ezra's head snapped up and the ten year old stared at him in shock and surprise.

"What are you doing here?"

"I got you out, now I'm getting you somewhere safe," Kanan explained, glancing around.

The less he was seen in public with the boy, the better.

"What do you mean? Why?" Ezra asked.

Kanan could feel the confusion and fear, he wished it wasn't there, but he hadn't spent a life time wishing things were not so to waste any more time doing so.

"I'll explain on the way, now let's go," Kanan said, gesturing to the kid to get up.

The boy didn't budge and a strange look passed over his face.

"I can't," Ezra replied.

Kanan raised a brow.

"My legs, I can feel them but, I can't walk," Ezra reluctantly admitted.

Kanan immediately felt guilty, he shoved it down though and gestured to the boy again. The boy hesitated before reaching forward and slinging his arms around Kanan's neck, Kanan lifted him and soon they were on their way down the street, the duo of a piggy back ride.

"You said you'd answer my questions," Ezra spoke.

Kanan gave a nod. Tonight was a night for public transport, they could catch a shuttle which would drop them off relatively near the market and then Kanan could walk the rest of the way to Hera's ship.

"You're right," Kanan responded, stepping aboard the shuttle, which had just stopped, and paying the driver.

They settled at the back, where it was empty.

"Why?"

"I don't know," Kanan replied honestly, "it puts me in a Hell of a position with my job, I suppose I have a thing for force users."

"Because you are one?" Ezra asked.

Kanan glanced at the boy, considering him.

"Yeah, because I am one."

Ezra was silent.

"I do have a favor to ask of you, you can agree to it or not, but it would be helping me out. The people I'm taking you to-"

"Who?" Ezra interrupted.

Kanan sent the boy a peevish look, Ezra just stared back obdurately.

"Sympathizers, their names are Hera and Zeb, they don't like the Empire and they'll get you somewhere safe. I think you'll like Hera," Kanan explained, "but they don't know about my, well, my job."

"Why not?"

Kanan shuffled in his seat, casting his eyes about the bus to take in the occupants, a method of delaying his answer so he could gather his thoughts.

"It's dangerous to tell people."

Ezra narrowed his eyes.

"Why tell me?"

Kanan looked at the boy with amusement.

"I didn't exactly get a choice."

Ezra gave a nod, accepting the explanation. It was silent for a while, the shuttle stopping and going. Kanan started to zone out so he was surprised by the little push he felt in the force. Looking over he saw the boy staring at the floor deep in thought, brows knit in thought.

"You alright, kid?"

Ezra snapped out of his daze and blinked, blue eyes round and innocent.

"Yeah, m'okay," he mumbled.

Kanan knew the boy was hurting, Kanan also knew that he hadn't had an interaction with a force user in many years, but he didn't remember any, other than his and Billaba's, ever being so intuitive. He watched the boy fall back into thought. Something was tugging at him, things were going to change soon. Kanan shook his head, turning away and letting the thoughts slip from his mind.


End file.
